The Island of Gold Part 20

"Just three weeks after this we were far away in the centre of the South Atlantic Ocean, and bearing up for Rio de Janeiro. The sea around us was of the darkest blue, but sparkling in the sunshine, and there was just sufficient wind to gladden the heart of a sailor.

"What induced James and me to change our plans and sail west instead of south and east, I never could tell, though I have often thought about it. A friend of mine says it was Fate, and that Fate often rules the destinies of men, despite all that can be done to alter her plans and intentions. This line of reasoning may be right; my friend is so often right that I daresay it must be.

"But one thing now occurred to me that at times rendered me rather uneasy, and which, when I tried to describe it to James, caused that honest sailor some anxiety also. I have spoken of it more than once to so-called psychologists and even to so-called mediums; but their attempted explanations, although seemingly satisfactory enough to themselves, sounded to me like a mere chaos of words, the meaning of which as a whole I never could fathom. But the mystery with me was this: I seemed at times to be possessed of a second self, or rather, a second soul.

"I struggled against the feeling all I could, but in vain. James read his mother's Bible to me, and otherwise, not in a spiritual way, he did all he could to cheer me up, as he phrased it. But--and here comes in the most curious part of it--I did not feel that I wanted any cheering up. I was happy enough in the companionship of my second self. This was not always present. Sometimes absent for days indeed, and never as yet did it talk to me in my dreams. At other times it came, and would be with me for hours; and it spoke to my mind as it were, I being compelled to carry on a conversation, in thought, of course, but never once did I have any notion beforehand as to what the remarks made were to be. They were simple in the extreme, and usually had reference to the working or guidance of the ship, the setting or shortening of sail, and making the good barque snug for the night.

"We called at Rio. The harbour here could contain all the war fleets in the world; grand old hills; a city as romantic as Edinburgh--that is, when seen from the sea--quaintness of streets, a wealth and beauty of vegetation, of treescape and flowerscape, that I have never seen equalled anywhere, and a quaintly dressed, quiet, and indolent people.

"We landed much stores here and filled up with others. On the whole, James and I were not sorry we had come, we drove such excellent bargains.

"Again, at Buenos Ayres, with its fine streets and public buildings, and its miles upon miles of shallow sea all in front, we did trade enough to please us.

"'When I retire from sailing the salt seas, sir,' said James, 'it's 'ere and nowhere else I'm goin' to make my 'ome; and I only wish the old lady were livin', for then I'd retire after the very next voyage.'

"Shortly after resuming our voyage southwards towards the stormy Cape Horn, we encountered gale after gale of wind that taxed all the strength of our brave barque, as well as the skill of the officers and seamen.

Again and again had we to lie to for long dark days and nights; and when we ventured to run before the storm, we had literally to stagger along under bare poles.

"But when we reached the Cape at last, and stood away to the west around the bleak and inhospitable sh.o.r.es of Tierra del Fuego, or the Land of Fire, never before in all the years I had been to sea had I encountered weather so fearful or waves so high and dangerous. So stormy, indeed, did it continue, that hardly did either James or I dare to hope we should ever double the Cape. But we both had a sailor's aversion to turning back, and so struggled on and on.

"The danger seemed to culminate and the crisis come in earnest, when one weird moonlight midnight we suddenly found ourselves bows on to a huge iceberg, or rather one vast island of ice that appeared to have no horizon either towards the north or towards the south. The barrier presented seemed impa.s.sable. We could only try, so we put about on the port tack, the wind blowing there with great violence from the west and north.

"This course took us well off the great ice island. It took us southwards, moreover.

"'But why not steer northwards?' said James. 'We'd have to tack a bit, it is true, only we'd be lessening our danger; leastways that's my opinion. This berg may be twenty or thirty miles long, and every mile brings us closer to great bergs that, down yonder, float in dozens.

Before now, Charles Halcott, I've seen a ship sunk in the twinkling of a marling-spike by a--'

"'By striking against a berg, James?' I interrupted. 'So have I.'

"'No, sir, no; you're on the wrong tack. Wherever big bergs are there are small ones too--little, hard, green lumps of ice, not bigger than the wheel-house, that to hit bows on would scarcely spill your tea.

But, friend, it is different where there are mountain seas on. These little green bergs are caught by a wave-top and hurled against the ship's side with the strength of a thousand t.i.tans. And--the ship goes down.'

"There was something almost solemn in the manner James brought out the last four words. It kept me silent for minutes; and shading my eyes with my hand, I kept peering southwards into the weird-like moonshine, the ice away on the right, a strange white haze to leeward, and far ahead the foam-tipped waves, wild-maned horses of the ocean, careering along on their awful course.

"'James,' I said at last, 'danger or not danger, southwards I steer.

Something tells me to do so; everything bids me. "Steer south--steer south," chimes the bell when it strikes; "steer south," ticks the clock.

James Malone, my very heart's pulse repeats the words; and I hear them mournfully sung by the very waves themselves, and by the wind that goes moaning through the rigging. And--I'm going to obey.'

"For nights I had hardly slept a wink, but now I felt as if slumber would soon visit my pillow if I but threw myself on the bed. The moon, a full round one, was already declining in the west when I went below and turned in all standing, and in three minutes' time I had sunk into a deep and dreamless sleep.

"James told me afterwards that it had taken him one long minute of solid shaking and shouting to arouse me, but he succeeded at last.

"'Anything wrong, James?' I said anxiously, as I sat up in my cot.

"'Can't say as there's anything radically wrong, sir,' he replied slowly. 'Leastways, our ship's all right. Wind and sea have both gone down. We've doubled the berg at last, and a good forty mile she was, and now we're nearing another. But the strange thing is this, sir.

There is men on it, a-waving their coats and things, and makin' signs.

I can just raise 'em with our Mons Meg gla.s.s.'

"'Some natives of Tierra del Fuego, perhaps,' I said. 'Anyhow, James,'

I added, 'keep bearing up towards them.'

"'Ay, ay, sir.'

"In ten minutes' time I was on deck, gla.s.s in hand.

"It was a grey uncertain morning, the sun just rising astern of us, and tingeing the wave-tops with a yellow glare.

"I could see the people on the ice with the naked eye. But I steadied Mons Meg on the bulwark, and had a look through that.

"'Mercy on us, James!' I cried, 'these are no savages, but our own countrymen or Americans. I can count five alive, and oh, James, three lie at some little distance stretched out dark and stiff. Shake another reef out--those people want us. A sad story will be theirs to tell.'

"We got them all on board at last, though with difficulty, for the surf was beating high above the snow-clad ice, and twice our boat was dashed against the hard, green edge of the monster berg, her timbers cracking ominously. We brought off the dead too, and buried them in a Christian way, James himself reading over them the beautiful service of the English Church. Though they were strangers to us, yet, as their bodies dropped down into the darkling sea, many a tear was shed that our fellows scarce took pains to hide.

"'And there they'll sleep,' said a voice behind me, 'till the sea gives up its dead.'

"I turned slowly round, and the eyes of the speaker met mine. Hitherto I had paid most attention to the lifeless, and scarce had noticed the living.

"But now a strange thrill went through me as this man, who was the skipper of the lost ship, advanced with a sad kind of smile on his face and held out his hand.

"'We have met before,' he said.

"'We seem to have met before,' I answered falteringly, 'but where I cannot tell. Perhaps you--'

"'Yes, I can; I have seen you in a dream. We must both have dreamt.'

"I staggered as if shot, and pressed my hand to my brow.

"'You seem puzzled,' he continued, 'yet I am not. I am a man who has studied science somewhat. I am often called a visionary on account of my theories, yet I am convinced that there are times when, in answer to prayer, the mind during sleep may be permitted to leave the body. You, sir, have saved the few poor fellows of my ship's crew who have escaped death, and I thank you. Think nothing strange, sir, in this world simply because you do not understand it. But you have an errand of mercy yet to perform. Heaven grant you may be as successful in that as you have been in taking our poor helpless men from off the ice.'

"'Come below,' I said, 'Captain--a--'

"'Smithson,' he put in.

"'Come below, Captain Smithson, and tell your story. James, will you bear us company?'

"I and James sat on one side of the table, our guest, with his thin, worn face and dark eyes that seemed to pierce us with their very earnestness, on the other. He told his story rapidly--ran over it, as it were, as a school-boy does something he has learned by heart.

"'It is but little more than five weeks since the good yacht _Windward_ cleared away from San Francisco--'

"'James,' I said, interrupting him, 'how long have we been at sea?'

"'Wellnigh four months, sir.'

"'How the time has flown! Pray, sir, proceed.'